CHAPTER X

THE SLEEP OF DEATH

WELL it was that Ranworth's party were walking with the wind, for progress against it would have been impossible. Everything within a few yards of them was blotted out by the hissing, stinging flakes of snow. In a very short time their landmarks were completely obliterated.

Everything in the matter of direction depended upon the little spirit compass that Ranworth held protected by his fur-covered mittens.

Not once, but many times, each member of the party slipped and came to the ground. At length Guy, numbed in body and mind, stumbled and fell upon the rapidly-increasing mantle of snow. It felt comfortable, did the snow. Lying there, he formed a firm resolve to rest and overtake the others later on. He was more than half asleep. With his head pillowed on his arms, there was peace.

Just then, something prompted Leslie to turn his head. Guy was missing.

Giving a shout that attracted the attention of his companion in front of him, Leslie pointed to a dark object just visible in the slanting avalanche of sleet.

Mechanically the others stopped, while Leslie turned and made his way back to the place where Guy was lying. Every step of the distance, as he faced the stinging wind, and whirling snow, was torture; yet, bravely staggering onwards, he reached his chum's side.

"Come on, old man," he said, kneeling by Guy's side and shouting into his ear. "You mustn't stop here."

Guy's only response was a drowsy movement of his head. Leslie in despair looked for his comrades. Three white figures, for the fur clothes were plastered in drifted snow, were looming up through the blizzard.

"Is he hurt?" shouted Ranworth.

"Don't think so," replied Leslie.

At a sign from their leader, Rogers and Payne assisted Leslie in setting Guy on his feet. Even then the lad showed a decided disinclination to budge.

Ranworth saw that it was a case for stern measures.

Raising his gloved hand, he gave Guy a smart blow on his face.

"Step out there!" he shouted roughly. "What do you mean by acting the goat?"

The action and the words had the desired effect. Roused by the sting of the blow, and dimly conscious that he was receiving an order, Guy stumbled forward. Leslie seized one arm, Payne took the other, and the tedious journey was resumed.

Of how long the weary tramp lasted Leslie had no idea. Suddenly he was aware that Ranworth held up one arm as a warning, and promptly sat down in the snow drift. It was the only way of checking his forward motion, so strong was the wind. At his feet was a chasm, too wide to leap across and too deep and steep to descend and climb the farthermost side.

Following their leader's example, the others threw themselves flat upon the snow. Even as they did so they saw the ice at the other side of the crevasse rock violently. Then, with a series of awe-inspiring crashes, the huge floe drifted farther away, causing the intervening abyss to increase in width.

Ten seconds later the mass of ice was lost to sight in the blizzard, while in its place was the open sea, sheltered for a short distance by the still intact part of the floe.

Beyond that space the surface of the water was lashed into a cauldron of foam by the wind and the driving, bullet-like flakes of snow.

The men clung together for mutual protection. Not a word escaped their lips, yet one and all knew the ghastly truth. The whole field of pack ice was breaking up. Already the outer portion had broken off; more than likely taking the _Bird of Freedom_ with it.

"We'll have to go back a bit and dig ourselves in, sir," said Payne hoarsely. "It's our only chance. We may outlive the blizzard."

Back they went for nearly a hundred yards, literally battling every inch of the way, till they reached the lee side of a slight rise in the ice-field. Here the snow had drifted till it was nearly five feet deep.

Working desperately, the five men succeeded in scraping out a hole in the snow. Into this they crept, where, sheltered from the wind, they hoped to find a temporary shelter--at the best, so far as they could foresee, a brief respite ere death from cold and starvation overtook them.

"If this blizzard breaks up the ice-field, the _Polarity_ will be free," declared Ranworth. "We stand a chance of being picked up by her."

"Not much, sir," replied Rogers despondently. "We're miles to the west'ard of her course. 'Tain't no use mincing matters; we're properly kippered."

Ranworth made no reply. He knew that the seaman's candid words expressed the situation. Despair, for the first time, seized upon him.

Hour after hour passed. The men squeezed close together, listening to the howling of the wind and the hiss of the frozen rain, punctuated by the sharp crackle and deep rumble of the floe as it parted.

Occasionally Ranworth consulted his compass. The steadiness of the needle showed that up to the present the ice on which the doomed men were sheltering had not separated from the main field.

The pangs of hunger began to assail them. At Rogers's suggestion the men derived some relief by sucking pieces of ice. The almost overpowering desire for sleep was upon them.

At length the blizzard showed signs of abating. The speed of the wind decreased; the flakes of driving snow grew smaller and smaller, till presently they ceased.

The fatigued men were now able to review their position. They were within fifty yards of the open water.

During the storm, the floe had broken away considerably, since they had retired twice that distance a few hours previously. Yet the breaking up of the ice had affected only the immediate locality, for to the right and left the "pack" extended several hundred yards seaward, leaving a vast bay, dotted here and there with pieces of floating ice of varying sizes and shapes.

"Hanged if I can stick this, sir," declared Payne. "I'm off to see what's doing."

Ranworth made no reply. He had heard the seaman's remark, but an indifference owing to complete exhaustion and lack of food and sleep possessed him.

Awkwardly Payne bestirred himself and stood upright. For a brief period he remained gazing in the direction of the south-eastern part of the bay, then, stumbling and slipping, he went out into the piercing cold.

Silence fell upon the rest of the party.

An hour later Leslie yawned and attempted to move. His limbs seemed as heavy as lead. He felt that he must have been dozing. He was not cold. The warmth of his companions' bodies and the mantle of snow which had drifted into their place of shelter, tended to soften the rigours of the Arctic climate.

He had forgotten the horrors of the situation. Comparative comfort, following upon the strenuous fight in the blizzard, had dulled his brain and lulled his mind into a sense of false security. All he wished to do was to fall asleep.

"It's dangerous," he murmured drowsily, "but a few minutes' sleep won't hurt. I'll be right as rain after that."

His head fell forward, then with an exclamation of pain he bestirred himself. His cheek had come in contact with the edge of an ice-axe, and the keen metal had cut into his flesh.

Holding his mittened hand against the wound, Leslie sat up. He was annoyed, not so much at the accident, as at his companions' complete indifference to his cry of pain and surprise. Then it dawned upon him that there were only three of them, and all were sound asleep in the snow-drift--a slumber which, if prolonged, would be the sleep of death.

"Guy! Guy!" he bawled into his chum's ear.

Receiving no response, he vigorously shook the sleeping lad. The action, although it gave Leslie renewed vitality, failed to have any visible effect upon Guy.

"Perhaps he's dead already," thought Leslie, then desperately he began to pummel the unresisting form of his chum, until Guy moved, grumbled drowsily, and finally opened his eyes. Nor did Leslie relax his efforts until his friend was able to show an intelligent knowledge of his surroundings.

"Buck up!" exclaimed Leslie. "We've got to tackle the others, if it's not too late."

Rogers gave very little trouble. As soon as he opened his eyes he seemed to realise the situation.

"Pity you didn't let us stop quiet," he said bluntly. "'Twould have been an easy snuff-out. Howsomever, now we've started we'd best carry on. Where's my mate?"

Neither Leslie nor Guy knew. They could offer no solution as to Payne's disappearance.

"Hard lines!" resumed Rogers. "He was a right good sort. But how about the Boss?"

The three now fully awakened members of the party proceeded to direct their attentions to Ranworth. While Leslie and Guy vigorously worked the unconscious man's arms and legs, Rogers rubbed his face with snow, until Ranworth opened his eyes.

"Up with him!" ordered Rogers.

They set the protesting Ranworth on his feet, and with justifiable roughness compelled him to walk.

Once, when through sheer want of breath they desisted, the patient's head immediately fell forward on his chest. But for the support given by his companion, Ranworth would have again collapsed upon the snow.

"Ahoy!"

A hail, sounding loud and clear, attracted the attention of Leslie and his comrades.

Looking across the bay, they saw at a distance of about a mile and a half the figure of a man. Owing to the rarefied atmosphere, the sound of his voice travelled with startling clearness.

"Ahoy!" replied Rogers. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Payne," was the response. "Fetch up here, sharp as you can. Here's the sleigh as sound as a bell."

"Thanks be!" ejaculated Rogers. "We're saved, Master Leslie. Mr. Ranworth, do you hear? Payne has found the sleigh. He says she's all right."

Ranworth's only reply was a deep snore. Still held in an upright position, he was fast asleep.

"Can you bring her alongside here?" shouted Rogers.

"No bloomin' fear," replied the distant Payne. "I'll not tackle a craft like that. Put your best leg for'ard and get a move on."

"P'r'aps it's as well," said Rogers to his companions. "We'll foot it. Take his other arm, Master Leslie. Master Guy'll relieve you presently. Keep him going."

Supported between Leslie and the seaman, Ranworth was compelled to walk. Stumbling in his sleep, he was urged forward, until the exercise restored his circulation. He began to protest, at first drowsily, then vehemently, and finally with less and less vigour until he, too, regained his senses.

Still supported by his companions, Ranworth found himself unable to stand alone, much less walk. Once or twice he had to be dragged feet foremost across inclined stretches of ice, which Rogers and the two lads had to negotiate on their hands and knees.

Although about a mile and a half directly across the bay, the place from which Payne had hailed them was nearly three miles distant by following the edge of the ice. When within a mile of their destination they were met by the fifth member of the crew of the _Bird of Freedom_.

"Thank your lucky stars I toddled off, mates," began Payne.

"I'll thank you a jolly sight more if you'll bear a hand here," said Rogers pointedly, for he had stuck gamely to his task, having firmly declined to be relieved by either Leslie or Guy. "Considerin' as you owes me five bob, 'tain't to be wondered at that you toddled off."

"Let bygones be bygones, mate," rejoined Payne, as he took Ranworth's arm. "I'll admit I owes you two half-dollars, but you ain't got no call to remind me in the presence of these young gents."

Even in the solitude of the Arctic, while still beset by perils, the two seamen were on the point of quarrelling on the subject of a debt contracted in far-off Hull.

"Stop that!" ordered Ranworth sharply.

Notwithstanding his physical fatigue, Ranworth was quick to recognise the possibilities of friction between the two men. He knew that only stern measures would prevent them from committing a breach of discipline that would still more seriously endanger the safety of the expedition.

"Here we are, sir," reported Payne. "Best go slow; it's a bit tricky."

He pointed to a fairly steep slope of the ice, ending at the water's edge. Within twelve feet of the end of the barrier lay the _Bird of Freedom_, moored fore and aft in almost the same position as Ranworth and his companions had left her.

Being on a weather shore, the floating sleigh had been protected by the ice wall, the only difference being that the slope had increased in steepness, owing to the melting away of the ice beneath the surface.

"I've cut fresh steps, sir," continued Payne. "P'r'aps I'd best nip on board and bring a coil of rope ashore. It might save some of us from having a bath."

Ten minutes later, the whole of the party were safely on board the _Bird of Freedom_. Like men in a dream, they ravenously devoured a hastily prepared meal, then, completely worn out, threw themselves into their bunks. Now they could rest without the fear of sleeping the sleep of death.